And on Monday and Tuesday she had failed to find him here. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. The black clad students streamed slowly to their positions carrying their instruments like offerings to the pilgrimage. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility.
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